©2001 Jet Mykles
Our heroine is not too sure that the resident tom cat isn’t her sexy new neighbor.
The tom cat nuzzled my neck, tickling the soft indent right under my ear as his paws gently kneaded the top of my breast. Never too much, he’d only hurt me a few times in the past before he’d learned what I’d allow. What, to my shame, gave me a distinct thrill. Was this wrong? I’d never done anything truly disgusting like seeing if the amorous tom would go down on me. Never more than the slight kneading and an occasional lick at the top of my bathing suit. It couldn’t be wrong, but I felt the guilt anyway.
It was his purr, caressing the artery which supplied life to my brain. He put vibrations in that blood, heating up my mind directly at the sex center, which of course, links directly with my nipples and the over-sensitive knob between my legs.
One of his hind legs slipped and grazed the inside of my thigh, too close to the forbidden for my liking. “All right, you,” I scolded, picking him up and holding him aloft before me. He protested with a whining cry that rattled in his thick, muscular throat, and reached his paws for me like a baby strives for its mother. Hungry to nurse at its mother’s breast.
“Enough,” I said, to him and me both. Was I sick? I wondered, setting him down. Had it been so long without sex that I was now fantasizing vividly about a rangy tom cat?
He tried to get back up four times, and after the fourth shove from my chaise, he got offended. In two bounds, he crossed to the roof’s wall and perched there beside the chimney, his tail curved gracefully about his legs as he sat staring at me.
“See,” I told him rationally now that he was out of reach, “if you were a guy, things would be different.”
He didn’t seem impressed and kept staring at me. To avoid the avid gaze, I dropped my head back and stared up at the stars. When had it become night? Had I been so involved in the cat’s caresses that I missed the fall of night? No, I remembered watching the sun begin to set in all it’s hot glory over his sleek, glistening black fur.
“Come on,” I chided myself at my thoughts. He wasn’t even my cat, just some stray tom who showed up when I was sunbathing. Thankfully, he wasn’t as dirty and smelly as most alley cats. In fact, he was in remarkably good shape and smelled wonderfully of freedom and recklessness, all underlined by the distinct feline musk.
He was gone when I glanced back and I almost breathed a sigh of relief. Then I missed him. He was the only friend I’d made since I’d moved to this city, and certainly the closest thing I had to a lover other than my right hand.
Right hand. No one was around. I slid it over my thigh and pressed two fingers to my wet sex through the bathing suit, not quite daring enough to slip them underneath. “Star light, star bright,” I whispered, unable to look down as I continued to tease myself, “first star I see tonight__” not exactly true, but who made the rules of these things, anyway? “__I wish I may, I wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight.” The star winked at me, Monty Hall promising the moon if I just made the right choice. “Make my tom a man.” I laughed. “You’re sick,” I told myself, sitting up and making my fingers behave. “And now you’ve proved it.”
The roof door opened as I started to think of gathering my stuff and going back to my apartment. I glanced over and was glad for the darkness to cover my blush. It was him, standing in the dusty lamplight. I didn’t know his name. He was my neighbor, had lived in the building longer than I but seemed to be as much of a loner. Not that he wasn’t nice enough. He always smiled and said “hi” when we met at the mailboxes. Nice voice, with an underlining vibration not unlike a purr.
God! I looked again to the blanket of city lights, laughing silently to myself. Don’t even let yourself believe that he’s your tom. That’ll prove you’ve gone over the edge into certifiable.
But, then again, had I ever seen them together?
He sat, uninvited, on the foot of my chaise. I was about to take offense, not being the kind of woman who likes to be picked up. At least not until I give the high sign with a look or an inviting laugh or something.
Probably why they weren’t pounding my door down.
Then he spoke. “A little late for sun, isn’t it?”
I was undone. A benign little comment, yes, but this time I heard a purr. What would a cat’s voice sound like if he were human? That was damn well close!
I laughed over my burgeoning fantasy, also to quell the tremor that shuddered through me, directing my attention to my crotch. My bikini briefs were soaked and here I was straddling the chaise.
I leaned my hands between my spread thighs in an attempt to shield my gasping sex. “I lost track of the time.”
He nodded, his eyes fixed solidly on my face. He had to know. Did it show in my eyes? I’d never noticed that his eyes were a funny green brown, not unlike my tom.
“I was just about to go in,” I said hastily, hoisting one leg over to meet the other.
“Don’t leave on my account,” he said casually. “I’d like the company. We never have talked.”
Because each other time you’re a god damned cat! I bent down over my bag, rummaging through it aimlessly as I pressed my thighs tightly together. Oh, I had masturbation material for life now!
“Some other time, all right?” I said briskly, hating myself. Why not stay and talk? This is a perfect opening to meet someone who you’re relatively sure is a good guy. Certainly good looking. But I couldn’t shake the cat image and it was driving me nuts!
I sat up, pulling the band from my ponytail and shaking out my hair. “I’ve got things to do__”
How’d he get close enough to touch me? I froze at the gentle whisper of his fingers on my neck, just below my right ear. I held my breath, unconsciously deciding that not breathing was better than panting.
“I__” What I was going to say, I have no idea because the rest of the sentence escaped as a giveaway sigh when his lips brushed where fingers had just been. The soft scratch of his whiskers on the line of my jaw. Whiskers. A day’s growth on the man, a delicate sensory organ for the cat.
He nipped lightly at the throb of my artery, just like the tom, but the lips were all soft and human as they parted to let the man’s tongue taste my skin. No rasping sandpaper scratch of a tongue, but pleasant nonetheless.
“I__” I tried again, but his arm slipped about my bare midriff to pull me closer. My hand gripped his bicep, impressed by the hard density contrasted by the soft whisper of black, downy hair that covered his skin. Black like the tom.
I was on my back with him stretched half atop my and half beside me. Insanely, I kept likening him to the tom, who was too big to sit entirely on my lap and preferred to sprawl with limbs akimbo all over me as if I were his bed. His possession. Definitely that. Marking me. The sucking on my neck, marking me as his.
I wrapped my arms around him, refusing to listen to the part of my brain which protested against what was happening. I didn’t know this man. He could be anyone, he could have diseases.
No, cats don’t get AIDS, do they?
Finally, his lips found mine and possessed my mouth. My tongue chased by his and finally caught and, like a mouse, devoured. His canine teeth were sharp.
Thick and black was his hair and I plunged my fingers into it, trapping his head to prolong the sweet heady drink of his kiss. I couldn’t be aware of my whole body, so intent on his mouth was I, but it came to me that he had my bikini top off. My breasts were straining against the light mat of fur covering his chest. One hand cupped and kneaded one breast, the thumb__ah, something the human counterpart had that the cat did not, and, oh, would I miss it!__teasing my nipple to aching hardness. If cats had opposable thumbs, they would rule the world with sex!
I gasped when his lips left mine, protesting with a wordless cry that turned to a groan when his mouth took my breast. Teeth grazed the soft skin and the rough shave of his chin felt somewhat like the tom’s tongue.
Jesus! I arched into him, digging my nails in the solid flesh of his shoulders. One hand slid down my legs all the way to my feet and I didn’t realize until it returned to my crotch that it’d had my bikini briefs with it. Entirely naked beneath him, panic threatened then exploded to tiny, burning fragments when his fingers slid into my clit.
I couldn’t see. I was nothing but breast and pussy, a catnip mouse for him to tease and ravish. A feline in the throes of heat.
I didn’t know cats indulged in foreplay. Probably when no stupid humans were looking.
He was at my throat again, pressing his sleek, magnificent length against my starving body. I indulged in a taste of my own, hungry for the salt of his skin. Dry, soft skin, with soft, invisible down there behind the ear.
I reached down, not surprised that he too had lost his shorts somewhere along the line. Ah, the cock was different from a cats too. Anything that big on a cat would be grossly out of proportion. On him, it was perfect. And it was mine!
He poised above me, looking down at me for the first time since he touched my neck. I looked into his glittering green eyes, and matched the knowing smirk on his wet lips. I lost hold of his cock as, in one motion, he slid off the end of the chaise, dragging me with him until my knees were bent over the edge. I cried out my frustration at the loss of his weight, his warmth, but realization hit me just as his mouth covered my sex.
I bit my hand over the scream, falling back on the chaise. Eyes open, I thanked Monty Hall the star for this gift of a cat-turned-man, but rational thought receded and his tongue prodded me wider, opening me like a soft, over-ripened peach. I came in shuddering, whimpering waves, clutching the edges of the chaise for want of anything else.
“Fuck me now,” I pleaded, bracing up on my elbows.
He grinned up at me over my belly then slowly, like a panther stalking his prey, each muscle rippling separately yet musically in tandem, he crawled up until he was over me again, his wet lips quirked in a feline smile.
Hands on my hips, he pulled me closer to the edge of the chaise, grounding his lips to mine, forcing me to taste my own sex juices mingled with his saliva. I clutched him for balance, the only reality of the world being him, the chaise, and the blanket of stars overhead.
Inside he plunged, taking possession of his chosen mate with animal ferocity. A cat in heat, I met him thrust for thrust, arching with him, a growling purr low in my throat, a sound I’d never made before. It lasted forever, but not long enough. Wave after wave, pounding, beating.
We lay curled together on the chaise mat which I had cast to the floor that afternoon. When we fell from the chaise, I have no idea and don’t begin to care. My fingers trailed deliciously through his hair, brushing the softer tendrils at the back of his neck. Safe and content, I wouldn’t let reality intrude as I listened to his breathing normalize and felt the pound of his heart slow.
His lips caressed the mark he’d left on my throat and one hand lazily kneaded my breast. I smiled. Who’s to say he wasn’t my tom? Had I ever seen them together?